


There was siblings...

by DreamLullaby



Series: Once upon a time [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Fairy tales fusion, Gen, Humans as Food, mention of children as sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:33:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29205915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamLullaby/pseuds/DreamLullaby
Summary: Hannibal opened his eyes to darkness, the cold of the cage seeping to his bones. The little body of his sister leaning on his thigh was the only source of warmth. Too warm he couldn't help but think.
Series: Once upon a time [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2144298
Kudos: 3





	There was siblings...

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work in a long time, hopefully you will all enjoy. English is not my first language and this story as no beta so I apologize for any mistakes.
> 
> That said, Hannibal in all it's glory doesn't belong to me and I make no money out of this !

> Hannibal Lecter the VII came from a long line of counts. Their line had been part of the royal family for centuries until some time ago when the Crawfords took the throne. Afterward, his grandfather, Hannibal V, who had backed the losing side had to run away or face the new royal executioners.

The family had a rough restart. They hadn’t known much else but to be part of the court. Though such careers required certain skills highly respected, they weren’t really compatible with, shall we say, a humbler life, and so they learned fast how to survive in their new reality.

It took some work.

But made it work they did, and the family was happy for a time. When his father, Hannibal VI died, Hannibal VII took over the family business, the livestock and the fields were now his. He shared this duty with his brother Robert and his wife. Together they tried to make the best of it.

Then he met her. Simonetta. The most beautiful person he had ever rest his eyes upon, inside and out she was perfect.

He was aware, of course, of the family blessings. When a Lecter met the one meant for them they knew immediately and none other would do. So like his ancestors before him, he courted his intended with every tool at his disposal and they were married within the year. The children meant to secure the Lecter line would follow. He was certain.

A year of marriage passed, then two, followed by the third year and still no children.

He could feel his precious wife’s sadness and her fear soaking every room in the house. She so desperately wanted to sire him children and was so afraid he would go to another so the Lecter line could be assured. And so to alleviate his beloved burden, he turned to the old ways, forsaking Simonetta’s beliefs in this new lonely god.

Without her knowledge, he made the required sacrifices and on the changing of seasons at the dawn of spring, a Fae took the appearance of an old woman and came to him with the gift of a potion with instructions to give it to drink to his wife. The following months, the Fae assured, will secure them a child. As she left, she gave him this warning. If they ever had other children, she would come back for them. Their firstborn would be safe, but the subsequent children would be hers. With those words, she disappeared without a trace.

That very same night. Hannibal VII poured the potion in his wife’s tea. None the wiser, she drank it all and then went to bed.

And when, close to a year later, the first cry of his son resonated in the house, he couldn’t help but feel an apprehension somewhere in his gut fighting with the happiness and pride of being able to hold his heir.

Ten years later

Hannibal VIII opened his eyes to darkness, the cold of the cage seeping to his bones. The little body of his sister leaning on his thigh was the only source of warmth. Too warm he couldn't help but think.

He strokes her forehead, and puts his lips to between her brows, he couldn’t know, not really but a fever wasn’t impossible and she was warmer than usual, burning up really.

They had been here, in this cage for days. They were well-fed and they had a little chamber pot for when they needed to go.

He didn’t know why they were here. The old lady that captured them would only give them food and leave. She wouldn’t say a word, and only silence would answer their questions.

He remembered how they had disregarded their parents' wishes, those wishes sounded more like admonition now. Their mother kept telling them to not go into the woods, not at night and especially not at this time of year. That moment at the change between Summer and Fall where the air felt strange and full of something.

Their father didn't believe in 'old wives tales' as was his saying but every time Hannibal and his sister would venture too close to the woods he would get this look in his eyes like an unnamed fear and then he would use the tone of voice to get them to come back home, this tone that promised retribution for any accomplished bad deeds. And they would go back afraid of the consequences.

If only they had listened, if only they hadn't taken the chance to get away while their parents' back was turned.

He remembered the moment Mischa looked at the woods. The way her eyes had glossed over and how she started to walk towards the trees. He followed her. How could he not? He had protected her all her life, how could he have abandoned her now?

He followed her for what seemed like hours through the trees and the swamps, up to that strange house that looked all at once inviting and repellent. Even years later he wouldn’t be able to tell people, even if he wanted, what the house actually looked like all his attention was taken by his sister and that door. A very bright red, impossible to miss door, that was slowly opening in front of his eyes and then… well everything went very fast and the next thing he knew they were in that cage, the cold of the coming winter season eating away at their bones.

A cold wind brought him back to the present, he could smell snow on the wind, winter already ? he couldn’t help but think. He had thought that they were gone a week at most, it was still Fall when they left, how could he have missed so much time?

A cough brought his focus back on Mischa, as she kept coughing and coughing, trying to free her lungs from whatever had taken hold. Feeling helpless, all Hannibal could do was hold her even closer trying to keep her what, warm? safe? Already too late for those, maybe keep her with him? he didn’t know. All he could be sure about was that he hated the feeling.

Steps outside the door made him try to shush her rapidly without success. The door to their ‘room’ opened with a bang and the old lady came in. She got close to the cage and looked at Mischa for a few minutes. Mischa kept coughing for a bit until she stopped and even then her breathing was ragged and uneven.

“Bah! She won’t make it to the morning. Better use her now.” She opened the door to the cage and attempted to take the young girl from her brother’s grasp. “No! You can’t, please!” he begged as he held her sister as strongly as he could, but his pleas fell on deft ears as the old hag kept pulling on Mischa’s ill body.

A wave of anger like nothing else before took hold of Hannibal then and he saw the witch's arm so close to his face, he struck. He felt his teeth dig deep in her skin and the warmth of her blood filled his mouth. He barely heard her screams as she pulled her arm away from his mouth leaving a piece of flesh behind that he swallowed on instinct. He could barely react before she took hold of Mischa and his neck at the same time and dragged them to the other room, she stopped in front of the oven, opened it before speaking.

“You don’t want to be separated from your sister firstborn, then with her, you will die.” She was about to throw them in the oven but somehow, she let him go. He didn’t lose any time and spurned around, took his sister and kicked the witch in the oven fire then closed the door. “Curse you firstborn, curse you for the rest of eternity!” she screamed as the fire engulfed her and soon the only thing left was her cooked body.

All Hannibal could do was look at the fuming body and all he could hear was the echo of the witch’s last words on the air and all he could feel was this hunger. A hunger that started deep in his gut and seemed to engulf his whole self and suddenly he was on the cooked meat and he felt ravenous and he was eating and eating and eating and he couldn’t stop and he could feel his body change and grow. His teeth and nails became longer and sharper. His arms and legs seemed longer and stronger and through it all, he kept eating and suddenly he heard a cough.

His attention was brought back to his sister feverish and coughing. He got closer and took her in his arms. Somehow he knew the way home and he started to run.

He ran and he ran. He doesn’t know how long he ran, but the snow on the ground didn’t slow him down. After some time they arrived at the house and he threw the door open. “Help, you have to help her !” Hannibal tried to scream, but all that came out was a roar.

His parents were sitting at the kitchen table with some food between them, it must have been dinner time. At his entrance, his parents looked up and a terror like he had never seen before appeared on their faces. His mother started to scream while his father quickly took hold of the fire iron close by. Before Hannibal could do anything his father had struck down on Mischa’s unresponsive body in his arms and blood started to slowly fall on the floor.

Time seemed to have stopped. All he could see was this drop of blood, his beloved sister’s blood, on the wooden floor.

The anger from before came back with a vengeance. He couldn’t seem to be able to do anything but let go of her body and finally looked upon his father.

Fear.

He could see only fear in his face. No recognition. That wasn’t his father. This thing that dared to make his sister bleed was nothing but a pig. A pig meant for nothing more than to make him stronger.

Faster than he thought himself capable, Hannibal jumped on him and his teeth found the man’s neck. He tore it apart in seconds and he started to eat with the man’s gurgles in his ears. And just like in the witch’s cabin, he couldn’t seem to stop. All he could feel was the flesh in his mouth, all he could smell was the blood mixing, blending, intermingling together to make the best dish he ever ate.

When he came back to himself, he was normal again with only bones left among the traces of blood and torn clothing.

Among all of that was Mischa’s favorite bracelet.

The forest became suddenly silent and the scream full of pain and sorrow that followed would be remembered by everyone who heard it. And when the few neighbors came around they were quick to spread the word around, that nothing was left in the house, nothing but blood and bones. And the rumors started. Rumors about the monster in the forest who would eat anyone who would get too close to its lair.

The rumors didn’t last long, however, because the monster didn’t stay, it ran. It ran far away, as fast as it could, trying to forget the taste of its little sister on its tongue.


End file.
